


Let’s Pretend I Don’t Exist (You Go First)

by orphan_account



Category: Fall Out Boy
Genre: Angst, Angst with a Happy Ending, Body Dysmorphic Disorder, Body Image, Dysphoria, Happy Ending, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Oneshot, dysmorphia
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-08-05
Updated: 2018-08-05
Packaged: 2019-06-22 06:00:49
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 384
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15575322
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: If you were to have caught Patrick at any other show, you wouldn’t have noticed it. Even if you had caught Fall Out Boy at the show on Wrigley Field, you still might not have noticed it if you weren’t close enough to the stage, or if you weren’t paying attention, or for some other reason out of many. But that didn’t mean it wasn’t there.





	Let’s Pretend I Don’t Exist (You Go First)

**Author's Note:**

> Title taken from Pete’s old livejournal. My first oneshot, please make sure to leave criticism if there is any to be given.

    If you were to have caught Patrick at any other show, you wouldn’t have noticed **it**. Even if you _had_  caught Fall Out Boy at the show on Wrigley Field, you still might not have noticed **it** if you weren’t close enough to the stage, or if you weren’t paying attention, or for some other reason out of many. But that didn’t mean **it** wasn’t there.

Patrick first noticed **it** after the show- he took off his jacket first, followed by his hat and eventually his shirt. He held back a scream, placing a hand over his mouth.

 **It** was a monster. No, not the type with claws or tentacles or long, sharp teeth. **It** had found itself a home in Patrick’s body, and it wasn’t planning on leaving any time soon.

 **It** was a strong, _strong_ hatred. A hatred that Patrick had initially ignored, tossed aside and forgotten about. But it came back. **It** always came back if you didn’t get rid of it.

* * *

Patrick cried that night while everyone else partied and laughed in their hotel rooms. He paced the room, looking for a way to console **it** but only finding loneliness and frustration with himself.

He did the only thing he knew how to do anymore.

* * *

”Pete?” The word was soft-spoken and offered from just outside of Pete’s room, quiet but just loud enough to spark recognition.

The door swung open, and Pete stood at the doorway, shirtless and bed headed. 

“Patrick?” Pete spoke so quietly that most people wouldn’t consider him to be speaking at all. “Is everything okay?”

The shorter man melted into Pete’s arms, crying out into his chest. “It’s here, Pete, it’s back. The monster. I can’t get rid of it,” he bawled.

Pete understood. He placed a hand on Patrick’s back and led him into Patrick’s own room, frowning sympathetically. “It can’t hurt you anymore, Patrick. I’m here.”

Patrick, not crying anymore, stared down at his shoes. “Does this mean- Does this mean I’m transgender?”

Pete shook his head. “Only if you think it does, ‘Trick. **It** can happen to anyone, body dysmorphia. I think it just means I need to take better care of you.”

Patrick wrapped his arms around his best friend. “I think I’ll be alright as long as you’re here with me.”

 

 


End file.
